


you make it easier

by memesofbees



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: 5+1 Things, Druids, Established Relationship, Fluff, Handholding, Like Disgusting Amounts of Fluff, Love, M/M, Mild Meme Usage, Nightmares, Possessed Keith, Sexual Content, Yup the last two are related Yikes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-15
Updated: 2017-02-15
Packaged: 2018-09-19 09:59:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,693
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9435068
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/memesofbees/pseuds/memesofbees
Summary: His ears were an extraordinary shade of red, "Alright, fine. I just... I like when you do my hair. It feels nice."Lance beamed, cheeks aching, kissing the slightly exposed skin between Keith's shirt and his neck, "I like doing your hair. I like your hair.""I thought you said it's, quote," he moved his head to glance over at him, air quoting at every syllable, "'A tragedy to rival every single book in the Odyssey, the Illiad, and the Harry Potter series. Billy Ray Cyrus is rolling in his grave. You look like a character from one of those violently animated mech cartoons from the eighties—"▼Five times Lance feels lucky to be with Keith and the one time he doesn't.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Somebody (ONCE TOLD ME) gotta force me to write for the Bang, pls. Can you tell I'm procrastinating? Being the lame person I am, there's a playlist [here](http://8tracks.com/bokutok/you-make-it-easier). It has the songs in the fic and some extra ones for the whole mood of it, just, y'know. If you want to check it out. If not, here are links for the songs @ [1](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=a_Jd32ygw0Q), [2](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=k6wDOi2HrsI), [5](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JluQoTEg2gU)

**▼ ▲ 1 ▲ ▼**

 

Keith didn’t own a hairbrush.

What the hell.

“Why the  _hell,_ ” he gave up looking through Keith’s drawers, falling to sit back against them, throwing his arms out in his direction, “don’t you have a freaking brush?”

He looked up from his book briefly, shrugging his shoulders, “Why would I?”

Lance gaped, “’Cause you have that—“ he motioned to his head, miming flipping a mullet over his shoulder, “that. How do you control it?”

Seriously, his hair was always a mess, but the kind of mess that looked purposeful. That kind of,  _‘Did I just roll out of bed or have sex? Or both? You’ll never know. Either way, I’m now attractive,’_ Lance’d seen his brother try to imitate every morning before school.

(In Keith’s case, it was both. Can’t say he ain’t proud of that.)

“I… don’t? If it’s really bad I put it up,” he rose both eyebrows, deadpanning, “which you’ve never had any complaints about.”

“Well, obviously, you look really hot. But I want to braid it, and I can’t braid it if it’s tangled.”

He was pleased to see Keith’s ears going pink, a small grin taking place on his face. For all the act he put on about being an Edgelord, Keith was a huge Softy. It made Lance soft, too. Soft and  _weak_. A swelling in his chest, every available space full of butterflies, ladybugs, and bees. 

"If you really want to... can't you just fingercomb it? Or—"

"I mean, sure," he inturrupted coolly, mockingly acting indifferent, "since you're asking so nicely—"

Keith narrowed his eyes as he came over, "I'm not—"

"Shush and shove, babe. Make way for the queen," he pushed at Keith's thigh and Keith sat forward, arranging himself so his back was against Lance's stomach. Lance curled his feet under his shins. He balanced his book up on Lance's knee.

Lance started on the tips, pulling at the knots with three fingers. A shiver went down Keith's spine, prompting Lance to drop a kiss on his temple. An easy smile settled on his lips. Since getting together, Lance noticed it appearing more and more. He was 100% on board with that concept. It was adorable

He purposely grazed his nails over the top of Keith's scalp, untangling his bangs. Keith pushed them behind his ears so Lance could access them better. He relaxed back, making a small noise like a sigh. Lance did a little happy dance, moving his feet sideways so Keith's legs bumped up and down. He debated for a second before deciding on a French, gathering all of Keith's bangs back into a half up, half down style. He smoothed down the rest to have it apart, taking it into three sections, tugging on it teasingly.

Keith elbowed his thigh. He did it again, gentler, starting to mutter some song Hunk had been singing in the shower earlier that week. He forgot the name, but it was something poppy. He got the right section and pulled it over the middle, then repeated with the left. 

_...Across the water, across the deep, blue ocean..._

Halfway through, when he began adding from the bottom part, he realized the prolonged hum Keith had been doing for a while was  _purring_. Like, like, a  _cat_. Or... "Is the purring a side effect of your being Galra, or?"

It stopped immediately, followed by, "What are you talking about?"

"Dude," he snickered, "you're purring."

"No I'm not."

"I have a cat," he stuck his tongue between his teeth, praying the looser strand didn't fall between his fingers as he leaned forward to speak on Keith's shoulder, "I know what it sounds like."

His ears were an extraordinary shade of red, "Alright, fine. I just... I like when you do my hair. It feels nice."

Lance beamed, cheeks aching, kissing the slightly exposed skin between Keith's shirt and his neck, "I like doing your hair. I like your hair."

"I thought you said it's, quote," he moved his head to glance over at him, air quoting at every syllable, "'A tragedy to rival every single book in the  _Odyssey_ , the _Illiad_ ,and the  _Harry Potter_  series. Billy Ray Cyrus is rolling in his grave. You look like a character from one of those violently animated mech cartoons from the eighties—"

"Okay, so  _maybe_  I was fibbing," holding everything in one hand, he used his other to demonstrate a small space between his index finger and thumb, "just a little bit. I like it, no matter how actually horrifying it is that it's a mullet. I’m lucky to be able to feast my eyes to the miracle of a mullet actually looking _good._ "

Keith exhaled, shifting to sit up more, "Very convincing."

"Babe, you pull it off! Somehow. I'm positive it's because you're half alien, though," he went back to work, closing in on the finish, "no mere human could rock this. Like, ever."

"I can't find the compliment in that paragraph."

"'You pull it off?' 'No mere human could rock this?'"

"Wow," Sarcasm? What sarcasm?, "I'm flattered. Take me now, Eros, oh god of flirtation."

He waggled his eyebrows, "I mean, it'd probably mess up the braid I've been working so hard on—"

Keith groaned. He smiled and made a grabby hand in front of him, " _Pasame_   _la colita_." There was a snap as Keith took off one of the many ponytails on his wrist, handing it over. It was purple, with a little alien emoji decal on it, which meant he'd stolen it from Pidge. He made sure it was visible when he tied it off, adjusting it to line up with the short braid.

He leaned back, skimming his hands down Keith's arms to hold his hands, fingers curling in around his knuckles. It came out good. "My masterpiece is finished," he announced and smacked a peck on Keith's cheek, "or, y'know, my  _extension_  to the masterpiece."

"Lance," he held up their hands, kissing along his wrists. Lance pulled Keith closer, curling his legs so he was trapped in them.

Keith laughed, high and happy. Lance peppered the right side of his face and neck with kisses before he twisted around, bending so the kiss aimed at the bolt of his jaw hit his mouth. They were smiling too much for it to be proper, mostly teeth and foreheads pressed together.

The braid got, tragically, messed up.

 

 **▼** **▲ 2 ▲ ▼**

 

Blue thought Keith had a great heart. She gave him her blessing after becoming Lance's S.O., but drew the line at any kind of hanky panky in her control room (So maybe they'd made out a little bit and she threw them up. It'd only happened once. Twice. Okay, no, wait...). So Lance was happy. 

They helped each other clean their lions. After some time of dating, they'd built up enough trust for it. He'd asked Blue if she was okay with it beforehand and she asked for Keith to put a hand on her nose. Lance had held his hand as he froze up, eyes going completely pale blue. Blue eased his worry, saying she was searching for something.

Keith came to dazed, cheeks slightly flushed. He wouldn't tell Lance what she said.

(Red did kind of the same for him. She looked through him for a moment before showing him everything she'd do to if anything happened to Keith because of him, most including being burnt to a crisp or crushed. He’d come out with a newfound respect for the Red lion, giving Keith a blank look when he asked what happened.)

Lance was stuck under the console, doing maintenance on some loose wires that kept glitching out the holoscreens. He wrinkled his nose, pulling out a white one and twisting the exposed ends. “When’d this happen? Before or after Black crashed into us?”

 ** _Before,_** Blue responded, **_while we were infiltrating the prison_** _._

“Ah.” He nodded, snipping it away and looking to connect it to one of the other wires. If he could get it back on the system without the fried bits, it might still work. He just needed another loose end… “Blue—“

 **_Sh_ ** **.**

He gasped, crawling out, still holding the cable, the other hand over his heart, “Did you just—“

 **_Listen._ ** ****

“What?” She sent a slight pinch through his nerves and kind of nudged him upright. He kept the wire longer than the rest, as not to lose it, and looked through the window. Nothing. Seriously, wh—

Faint, right above him. He was probably working on the char marks from the last planet they’d been on, ridden with volcanoes. Except… Keith was singing. Oh my God, Keith was _singing_.

Lance almost died getting to his feet, tripping over everything. He attempted pressing his ear to the ceiling to hear but couldn’t reach, and if Blue lowered her head, he’d notice.

Keith sang. Not that often, once in a, like, _purple_ moon, but when he did, it was beautiful. Anybody who heard was lucky enough to be present for it.

Well, Lance was half-lucky right now. He could hear the lilt, rhythm of his voice, but no words.

When Keith sang, he poured _emotions_ into it, gave the song life. He only ever did it while he worked. Sometimes in the shower. Lance had heard him in both situations, three times in total, and it was… Jesus.

**_He sounds very nice._ **

Lance whined and gave one last attempt before collapsing in his seat, “Is there a way? Can’t you—Do you have a speaker or something—“

Almost immediately, Keith’s voice filled Blue’s head, just loud enough for it to be heard, but not for somebody outside to notice. Lance’s eye twitched. “Why didn’t you tell me before?!”

**_As a paladin, you must learn to work through even the most trivial of tasks._ **

“You’re screwing with me."

**_Yup._ **

He stuck his tongue out and leaned forward to listen. It was a song he felt he should recognize, but didn’t quite. Keith’s voice swelled roughly, falling into a higher chorus. It got richer, deeper when he sang, with all the poise of someone who grew up in a house of country music (Which Keith _hates_ by the way; country. I have to mention this, or he’ll kill me).

It was ridiculous, considering, but the lyrics, the content… Lance felt his heart suffocating in warmth, choking on the words. Like they were for him

They sounded like the offhanded comments during sparring, the murmurs against his shoulder blades while they tried to go to sleep.

That was one other time Keith sang. When Lance had nightmares. They varied, subject-wise: the Galra invading Earth, taking his family away. Something happening to his team. Something happening to Keith. Lance being useless, Voltron ultimately finding a new Blue Paladin and dropping him in some unknown wasteland. He'd told Keith about that one, choking back a sob. But Keith gathered him up anyway, hugged his arms around Lance’s waist, pressing the words of a soft tune or lullaby into his skin. 

Once, to make Lance feel better, he’d started going off with All Star. Lance had collapsed, burying his face into Keith’s chest.

(Boy knew all the effing lyrics. What an underground memer.)

There was so much _good_ in Keith’s voice. Sure, most of the time he was throwing snarky shit around, groaning at something Lance said, or complaining about something, but it was all at face value. Lance _knew_ how helpful Keith tried to be. How positive he tried to stay.

And just like that (too soon), the song ended. Lance bumped his head back, eyes closed. He went over it again, already losing most of the memory.

“By any chance, did you—“

**_I’ve already sent it to the computer in your room. Your welcome._ **

“Blue,” he fell back to the floor, patting a button, “I love you.”

**_I know._ **

Heh. He found another fucked wire and connected it to his original one, watching as the technology automatically merged them together.

He jolted when something hit his foot and peeked to see Keith, hair up, bandana around his head. His arms and face were streaked black, tank top dark at the collar with sweat. “You almost done?”

“Yeah,” he came out sitting, running a hand through his hair, “there were a few wires on the fritz. I just reconnected them like Allura said to do. I’m pretty sure it works now. Blue?”

There was a buzz and the images of the empty insides of all the other lions and the control room. Lance whooped, cut short by a current going up his left arm. Ah. He still had one of them looped around his wrist. He shook it off, shoving it in with the rest of them and shaking out his hand. The panel slid closed and Lance shuffled away from it, throwing his other hand up, “Help me up?”

Keith rolled his eyes but didn't letting go once he was upright. He twined their fingers together and squinted, "You have..." he reached and rubbed at something on Lance's forehead with his thumb.

Lance grinned, "Well, you have something," he motioned at Keith's general being, "there. Don't worry, not quite noticeable, but I'm just giving you a head's up here—"

He punched Lance's arm, just enough to get his point across. Lance caught his fist and spread it so that both hands were occupied. Keith blinked once, stepping forward and reaching behind Lance, tucking his thumbs in his waistband so that his arms were useless.

"We have to go work on Red," he said lowly, putting all his weight on his heels, "I can hear her calling me from here. And you know when she's annoyed, things explode."

"Yet another thing you guys seem to have in common," Lance quipped, meeting Keith in the middle when he leaned up. His lips were slightly chapped, and he tasted like salt.

He was pulled forward, so that they were touching from hip to chest. He was tempted to say something about Keith being sweaty, but he really didn't care, and damn if he was interrupting this. But he should've bit the bullet, because not even seconds later they were ejected from the room. Lance curled around Keith automatically, freeing his hands to secure him before they hit.

It wasn't by much because Blue didn't actually want to  _hurt_ them; she crouched down so they were only a couple of feet off. Lance's head still hit the ground, and he'd bet he'll still have a  _chichon_ there tomorrow, just like the other times.

There was an  _oof_ of the air being knocked out of them and Keith was a persistent weight on his stomach.

He held him up by his biceps, getting up and tentatively touching the back of his head. Yup, definitely bruising.  _Okay, okay, we get it._

**_I have one rule, Lance._ **

" _Yá, yá_ ," Keith's fingers overlapped his own, feeling over the raised bump, "I'll follow it now. _Lo juro_." 

Keith put a hand up, "Same." 

They made their way out, taking a detour to the kitchens to get ice before heading to Red's hangar. Lance started whistling the song where he could remember the melody, meeting Keith's shocked expression with a grin. He continued, only ever faltering when Keith started softly singing along.

He squeezed Lance's fingers.

 

**▼ ▲ 3 ▲ ▼**

 

Honestly, thanks @God for sparring. Like, what an actual _blessing_.

Lance felt his jaw drop as Keith dodged Shiro's lunge, sliding away and jumping to aim a kick at his head (Who the hell kicks at someone's head? Keith. Keith did). Shiro anticipated it, reaching up and grabbing his ankle, almost inhumanly fast. 

The trio of them watching gave varying reactions of awe and screaming (Hunk). He yanked at Keith's leg, meant to send him sprawling on his back. But Keith was a freaking ninja, remember? And he knew all his brother's tricks.

He fell on both hands in a half bridge and twisted his leg, using Shiro's own momentum to send his other foot into his side. Shiro let go and Keith cartwheeled to his feet, most of his hair out of the ponytail, sweat gathering on his neck, but triumphant smirk radiant.

"God, I wish he'd do that exact same thing to me," Lance sighed.

Pidge snickered, "Kinky."

He winked.

Shiro looked impressed, wiping a small smile of his face before swiping his arm through the air, hand lighting up. Keith flicked his wrist, his knife suddenly in his possession. Where'd he keep that thing? Seriously? "C'mon, _Takashi_." He put a hand forward and beckoned mockingly, "Bring it."

"Oof," Hunk said, "bringing out the _Takashi_. Lance, your boyfriend has a death wish."

Lance crossed himself, "I know."

They stood in a kind of staring contest for a second, sizing eachother up, Keith finally shaking the ponytail off, hair falling around his cheeks. His eyes flickered momentarily, narrowing.

(Due to Galra genes; it happened sometimes when he was in a heightened state of mind, angry, excited, adrenaline-drugged like right now. They glowed yellow, and Lance had noticed it once or twice before they knew, but thought it was a trick of the light.)

(Yes, it's happened during sex before.)

(Yes, it might turn on Lance just a bit.)

(Or more than a bit)

He took a stride forward, twirling the knife to strike. Shiro deflected it with his metal arm and grabbed Keith's with the same manuever, twisting it behind his back. Keith threw the knife to his other hand but Shiro slapped it away, pressing his trapped arm tighter. Keith stomped his foot, shooting a look over his shoulder.

"Say uncle," Shiro announced with a dark reverence, grinning wide.

Keith pretended to spit at his feet, shoulders flexing as he tried to loosen the hold a bit, "Fuck you."

The flex suddenly had Lance honed in on the fact that Keith was very much in form-fitting clothes, shifting in every direction. He needed water, suddenly. So much effing water. A distant memory of those very same shoulders moving against his a few months ago resurfaced, when they got trapped in the elevator on their way to the pool.

Difference is, he'd been so deep in denial back then, his fossils were being excavated by Egyptian archaeologists. Partly because Lance still hadn't come to terms with his sexuality, and partly because it was Keith and it was almost appalling to him then to find anybody with a _mullet_ attractive (Lmao, sure, Past Lance, that was the reason). After swallowing his balls back in place, he finally got up the courage to do _something_ , and damn if he ain't happy he did.

Now he got to ogle freely.

His brother shrugged, almost as if this was out of his control, "Alright, you asked for it." Shiro put his other arm around Keith's waist and threw him over his shoulder on his back, his upside down face a portrait of upside down rage.

"Jesus Christ, Shiro, put me _down—"_

_"Say uncle."_

_"Never."_

He started kicking wildly, struggling, but to no avail. Takashi Shirogane had a literal iron grip (Well, not quite iron. It was some kind of space metal, pretty durable, synced up well with tech).

After a while of this, Shiro latched down his legs and started swinging him side to side. Lance fell back, holding his stomach from laughing so hard. Keith shouted, and it sounded like he was doing it into a fan, "Avenge— Me— Pidge—"

" _Hey,"_  Lance shot up, "why not—"

Pidge was somehow across the room and jumping on Shiro's other shoulder, wrapping both arms around his face. She started yelling at the top of her lungs, jostling his head back and forth. He made a disturbed noise, but didn't budge, stumbling.

Lance jumped, valiantly running over, "I'll save you, my damsel in distress!"

Whatever Keith's response was, he didn't hear it over Shiro yelping when he latched onto his right leg, but it was presumably something inappropriate. Shiro tried to shake him off but he used the full length of all four long limbs to wrap around twice. Pidge screamed for Hunk, "Get in on this! We have to save Keith!"

Hunk steeled himself and adjusted his head strap, diving for Shiro's other leg, "I'm on it!"

Keith hissed Through the chaos, "I'm throwing your Kat Von D pen into space and leaving you with the CVS shit."

He gave him an extra shake, "I don't care."

"And I know where your Sephora stash is."

Shiro froze, stopping all the action. Pidge whistled. From his position on his foot, Lance could see Shiro's eyes narrow, "You wouldn't."

"That's what you said when I told you I wasn't going to take your prosthetic while you slept and hide it in Allura's room."

Hunk gave a low, drawn-out, "Dude."

The gears turning in Shiro's head were starkly noticable in the quiet. Lance and Hunk glanced at each other, grimacing. And because they were best friends, and best friends had Telepathic Powers, he tilted his head up slightly, motioning at Keith, _He's not backing down._

 _I know, dude,_ Hunk nodded, _but Shiro's not gonna lose his streak._

Lance rose both eyebrows, _I grew up with two older siblings. Like fuck he's losing to his little bro._

 _Yeah, man, but we have to stay here this entire_ _—_

"I'm taking that chance," Shiro announced and spun completely on his heel. Lance shrieked (in the most manly way possible, of course), scrambling to grab on tighter.

Pidge started the yelling back on full gear, and Hunk was trying to find a ticklish spot on Shiro's leg. As the loyal boyfriend he was, Lance made his effort by gnawing at Shiro's calf. But _shit_ if Shiro ever skipped leg day.

(Must've run in the family though. 'Cause Keith's legs, _whoo, Keith's_ legs.)

(He felt obligated to add this. Every opportunity he didn't take to brag about his boyfriend was an opportunity lost.)

So that's how Allura must have found them. Lance couldn't pinpoint the exact moment because he didn't notice her until the camera clicked. They all looked to find her with it held up in selfie position, Coran excitedly grabbing it's other side to look. Shiro stiffened and Lance didn't have to see him to know Keith was smug as all hell.

"Uh... Hey, Princess."

Allura straightened, putting on her most regal face, "And what exactly is happening here?"

"Shiro _,"_ Keith said before anybody else could speak, "is being the model example of a good leader."

"And we're learning from him," Pidge added, motioning her hand at Lance and Hunk. They waved.

She nodded, "Ah. So you're... learning. By climbing him?"

"Pretty much, yeah."

Perhaps it was the placebo effect, but Lance thought he could feel Shiro's blush down to his feet. _Aw_.

Coran's hands were practically buzzing around the camera (Obsessed with the thing), and he hopped, "Then, if this truly _is_  a learning experience, we should document it! Everybody, sit up straight and say," he proceeded to make various clicking and whistling noises, followed by what could've been a howl. Honestly, just a little bit scared.

They blinked.

"Oh. Well," he grinned sheepishly, "or we could settle on _zofrieb._ Everybody say, _Zofrieb!"_

Shiro shifted so that Keith's face showed up in the picture, holding up the leg with Hunk on it. Lance blew a kiss as it went off, putting one leg straight out while holding on to Shiro's leg with one hand.

As soon as it stopped, it clicked as to why Coran had put on the flash, even though the lighting was perfect here. The seconds it took for Lance, at least, to stop seeing stars was it seconds it took for Allura to run across the room and launch herself at Shiro.

Which, for real, not even _Lance_  thought of. Kudos, Princess. Kudos.

She held on around his middle, half-sideways, so he had to lift up the arm with Keith on it to not elbow her in the face. He could see Keith land in a handstand, then slowly lowering himself onto his back, pumping one fist with a single finger raised into the air (Guess which one). Shiro attempted turning to get him back but Pidge was back at it again, practically _yodeling_ now.

Lance used the distraction to detach himself, bending next to Keith with his hand out. Keith took it, pulling himself to his feet, and they sprinted for the exit, Lance throwing a salute over his shoulder, "We commend you for your brave sacrifice, Allura!"

"Tell my story!" She called back, taking a hard push back.

The definite sound of a heavy back hitting the floor and Hunk's " _Timber!"_  confirmed the fact that Shiro was befallen. They still ran, twining down hallways and one set of stairs before stopping, chests heaving, lungs burning, but, _Dios,_ the adrenaline rush was amazing.

Keith leaned back on the wall, wiping the sweat of his face with the front of his shirt, exposing his stomach. Lance had the overwhelming urge to kiss the faded scar going up his hip. Call it muscle memory.

He threw an arm around Keith's shoulders, jutting his hip out to be level with him, "Were you really going to throw his eyeliner into space?"

"Yes. I _am._ "

"Even though you wouldn't be able to use it anymore?"

Silence. "I didn't think of that. I'll swipe some, then do away with the rest."

"Hm, wow," he pressed his lips to the tip of his ear, "cold-blooded. How very Galra."

"Yes. My next plan is, with Shiro weak, to strike down the rest of the team and run Voltron by myself," he Deadpanned, "you've figured me out."

"Terrifying," Lance announced, giving another smooch, "my tiny, terrifying Galra boyfriend."

"Oh my God, it's literally _one_ inch—"

He drew up his full height, using a flat hand to compare the levels, "An inch is all the difference, babe. You should know this." Maybe if Lance hadn't held back a smile, Keith wouldn't have detected the dirty joke. He elbowed Lance in the ribs.

"Seriously! Oh, speaking of," he skimmed his arm down, hooking two fingers on one of Keith's belt loops and turning him off the wall, facing Lance, "you looked really good out there. Before the whole thing—"

"How are the two related?"

"Like, _really_ good. Really," he wasn't staring at Keith's lips on purpose; whatever gave you that idea, " _really—"_

"We _are_ dating, you know," Keith crossed is arms, pointing between them, "you could just ask."

He sighed dramatically, loosely throwing his arms around Keith's neck, playing with the flip of his hair, "Ah, but all the romanticism, lost! How I, Eros, have fallen. Not even my boyfriend, do my flirtations seem to affect."

"Oh, they work," he put his hands on Lance's waist, thumbs slowly bumping over his ribs, "I'm just saying if you _really_ want to have sex, you don't have to go through all the trouble."

Lance felt his cheeks light up, all bravado lost, "How can you just _say_ that?"

"What? Se—"

He clapped a hand over Keith's mouth, " _Ah_ , yes."

Keith took his hand away, "You're three years old."

"No, I'm not!" He puffed his cheeks out, leaning his head back, "'S just... I'm still... kiss me so I stop talking?"

"I'm not giving you an out—"

"You know you want to—"

"Lance—"

"According to—"

Keith growled and pushed him against the wall, kissing him hard and fast. Lance was dazed when he pulled away. "Shut _up_. This is fourth time you've done this. I can't believe I'm still attracted to you."

"Seriously? You shouldn't believe I still have that entire thing memorized—"

"Seriously," he did it again, softer, lingering for longer, "shut up."

Lance didn't let him stay away for too long this time, chasing after him like the thirsty mofo he was (Like, c'mon. He's not about to deny it. As far as he was concerned, he'd just ran seven miles on nothing and Keith was a cold _Frescolita_. Cheers). He closed his eyes, sighing against Keith's mouth. Lance moved his hands to cup his face and neck, relaxing when Keith gently pressed against him.

The hold on his waist tightened, dipping slightly so his thumbs were tucked in Lance's waistband, the lazy movements still going on right below his navel. Lance's mouth fell open, breathing more labored than before.

It wasn't fast, this burning. Because that is what it was.

Lance was burning.

With Keith, everything was fire and, fine, it was cliche, but it was the truth. There were uncontrolled, raging wildfires, Keith's anger, Keith's unwavering passion during battle. He was a match lit in the dark, warm, assuring, carefully wiping Lance's tears away with shaking fingers. 

Slow burns, bonfires, like now. It wasn't much. It was never much.

But Lance had smoke in his chest and sparks jumping into his skin, and he was burning, but, God, what a wonderful way to burn. 

Keith strayed from his face, dragging down his chin, his jaw. Lance held back a moan.

(It was _embarrassing,_ how fast Keith could undo him.)

He knew Keith must have felt it in his throat because he kissed the spot, following just beside his pulse point. Lance dropped his arms back around his neck, head moving to give him better access. Keith followed the line to his shoulder, where he gave one, two open-mouthed kisses before grazing his teeth over the skin, as if testing. 

Lance would have to make sure his shirt didn't hang low for a couple of days.

 

Eventually, Coran disturbed ( **cough** blocked **cough** ) them with the announcement of dinner and they reluctantly drew apart, still panting. Keith refused to let go of Lance's hand, thumb skipping over his knuckles. Little birds dropped on Lance's shoulders and chirped happily and Lance was in—

"...actually track her?" 

Lance shook his head, trying to sound like he knew what Keith had just said, "I mean, if it worked for Alfor before, she should be able to. If Haggar really is Altean."

"And with the amount of power she's constantly expelling," his hand tightened subconsciously, eyebrows forming one big worm, "it should be easier."

He wanted to kiss the bunched up space of his forehead, so he did, "Right. It'll work, babe. Allura's a badass. She just took the equivalent of, like, seven bullets for you."

He separated the worm by cocking up a side, "It doesn't count if he has a crush on her. Shiro'll go easy on her."

"I never went easy on you."

"Really? Couldn't tell."

Lance squawked.

Dinner was usually an event; food fights initiated at random, disasterous consequences of a new recipe Hunk was trying (See: the Spider Sandwich Incident), or just good ol' Drama. But tonight was pretty chill, since they were all tired from the Shiro Takedown, so they ate and talked casually. Under the table, Lance and Keith played footsie while they bantered with everybody.

It finished without much fuss and Keith kept talking to Pidge as they walked back to their rooms, apparently in a heated debate about the Jersey Devil actually being an alien from that cave system they'd explored a few planets ago. He motioned with his entire body except his hands, always remaining tucked in his pockets. Lance didn't really participate (He was aliens, not cryptids), just kinda resigning himself to watching Keith talk and smiling.

Which was a-okay with him, tbh. He just— He really liked Keith. A lot. The thought put honey in his brain, a renewed engine in his heart. Like earlier, when they were kissing, his blood upping a few degrees, his eyes catching Keith's every little movement, loving every little—

Oh.

_Oh._

He wasn't really aware of where they were for a moment, feeling as if everything had suddenly done a complete three-sixty and he was still in the Castle, but everything felt different. 

Pidge snapped her fingers in his face, "I said good _night_. Yeesh."

"Uh, yeah, um," he put on the Fakest smile, "g'night, Pidge. Sleep tight."

She slunk into her Cove ( _Cove_ ), muttering, "Yeah, I'll do that. I'll do that knowing the Devil's a cryptid, not a—"

Keith closed the door for her, scowling. Then turned toward him, all agitation, "Are you okay? You've been zoning out a lot today."

Lance waved a hand, "Pft, no, I'm _fine_. You worry too much."

"I worry the right amount," he said, still unsure, but walked alongside him without pushing further. 

God. _Dios. Mierrda._

Lance did _not_ just have his discovery about loving Keith when he was in the middle of a _debate_  about a _cryptid._  What an actual _mess._

To be honest, he's known for a while. And... I don't know, maybe this is wishful thinking, but he believes Keith knows too. It's unspoken. It's letting eachother take care of their lions, it's letting Lance touch the scar on his right shoulder, Lance telling him how old his baby brother turned a few days ago.

It was unspoken, but right now, Lance really wanted to speak it. Say it? God, it was affecting his _brain_ now.

Keith reached for Lance's hand, pulling him so their arms bumped together. Squeezed once and let go, but Lance didn't put any more distance between them.

They went to Keith's room, Lance's currently out of commission because of a minor incident with Pidge and a smidge of pyrotechnics (So maybe it wasn't smart to test out their celebration fireworks indoors. Noted), but did Lance mind in the least? Hell no. They didn't move into one of the spares together because their rooms were already next to each other and Lance was lazy.

He pushed the doors open, even as it did so automatically, allowing to Keith go in first, because he was that kind of gentleman. Keith rolled his eyes when Lance motioned him in with a flourish, a dusting of pink shading his cheeks.

It looked really damn cute, and did nothing to aid in the fact that his heart was full to bursting with unicorns and sunshine. But he didn’t just want to _blurt_ it out. It was supposed to be special, right? Candles and rose petals and a steak dinner, though they didn’t have steak, and they were _not_ eating Kaltenecker. He sat down on the bed, kicking off his shoes.

Keith hummed under his breath as he gathered all the shower stuff, throwing a towel over his shoulder and holding both (Lance’s) shampoo and conditioner bottles in one hand. “I’m going to hit the showers.”

Lance perked up, waggling is eyebrows, “I’ll join you.”

He rose an unimpressed eyebrow, turning to look at him, “Lance, I actually have to shower.”

“Uh, yeah, do so I. There’s more than one shower. Jeez, no need to be so _crude_ , Keith.”

“Hm, alright,” he shrugged, waiting for Lance to stand before making his way out, “but if you leave conditioner in my hair again, I’ll be pissed.”

 

The doors hadn’t closed before Lance was pinned to the mattress, muffling a groan as Keith sucked a hickey into his collarbone. He put a hand sprawled across Lance’s waist, the other pressing into his hip, scorching everywhere he touched. Lance wrapped his arms around his shoulders, fingers scrambling to twist into his hair.

Keith kissed the already-forming bruise, crowding him back so that both their bodies fit on the bed. He fit his leg between Lance’s, the fact that only his towel was disturbing the friction completely unfair. He panted, tugging at Keith until he looked up, “Off. Take them off.”

He obliged quite happily, hovering up for a second to do away with the offending pieces of cloth, coming down with a long drag at Lance’s mouth. Cue cardiac arrest in three, two—

Keith’s lips were amazing. He was amazing. Lance loved him for _him_ , of course, he wasn’t so surface level. But the hot bod helped. Like, _really_ helped.

He moved like the fire he embodied, every movement completely new, unique. Even though he was shorter than Lance, he wasn’t smaller. His waist was wider, legs more defined from all the training; translation: _thighs._

Which prompted the thought of them around his waist, and, well—Lance hooked his foot around Keith’s calf and bucked up, the gasp it earned him sweet in his mouth. He used the moment to flip them over, not completely crushing Keith on the descent.

Keith gripped his arms, sounding dazed, “That’s cheating.”

“I’ll read the rulebook later,” he snickered, kissing the tip of his nose before ~~going for a whole other kind of tip entirely~~ .

~~What?~~

~~Too much?~~

He pushed a grin into the crook of Keith’s neck, hands skimming over his sides. Keith’s breath stuttered. Lance felt his pulse do the same.

Unlike Keith’s chaotic pace, Lance went slow. He took his time on every little thing, just to enjoy Keith’s reactions. A nip to the space behind his ear tightened his hold on Lance’s biceps. Pressing his tongue over the scar on his shoulder gave a full on moan. Lance was drunk on the sound, eyelids fluttering.

 _I love you,_ he mouthed along the jagged line, sliding down his body with a trail of scattered bites that dissolved into butterflies, barely huffs of air when he reached his navel.

The sheets rustled until Keith’s hand was grappling for his, holding them to his stomach. “Lance…”

“I’ve got you,” he murmured, “I’ve got you, baby.”

Keith ran his free hand through his hair, tracing a path down his neck, over his shoulder.

Lance turned his head, immediately going in for a kiss at his base. Keith inhaled sharply, hand falling to fist into the bed.

He mouthed up his side, supporting himself on his elbow. Keith was flushed red, precome pooled at his head, completely perfect. He swiped his thumb over it, spreading it down.

Keith smacked his hand over his mouth, keen barely ebbing through his fingers.

And Lance went slow, but it didn’t overshadow the fact that he was still impatient as all hell. So he went down on Keith. Took him into his mouth, pulling both Keith’s arms down to his sides. Nothing was there to mask the moan that ripped out of his throat. He pushed forward, hollowing his cheeks. “Fuck,” almost inaudible, “ _Lance.”_

So audible.

So, so audible.

Lance lifted up, kissing the tip before going down halfway, loosely his hand wrapping around the rest. He slowly pumped, flattening his tongue against him.

Keith’s frantic sobs lulled, suddenly desperate. He pulled at Lance’s hands, scratching his shoulders when he let go, slurred, “Come here.”

He didn’t immediately listen, humming his question.

_“Lance. Now.”_

Lance kneeled up, grazing his teeth over him as he did, wiping his chin with the back of his hand. Keith sat, chest heaving, all shades of red and pink. And purple, where it counted. “You’re gorgeous,” he looped an arm around him, pushing their sweaty foreheads together, “surpassing me, even—“

“You just,” Keith took a breath, eyes flickering up to his, “sucked my dick. Then said... that.” His face didn’t change when he said this, pupils still blown wide, a dopey sort of smile forming, “I hate you.”

Lance spread his hand out, putting the tips of his fingers under Keith’s, lifted them to be palm to palm, then curled around it. He thought maybe he was copying it, the smile, “I love you.”

Keith’s hold tightened significantly. Enough that Lance wanted to pull away, but he wasn’t a pussy, so if this was—

Soft, familiar against his, but shit if Keith wasn’t putting all his strength behind it, knocking Lance over. His back hit with a thump.

 

**▼ ▲ 4 ▲ ▼**

 

The lights were turned off, the singular bubble of quintessence on the wall echoing blue around the room. Lance saw his hand beside his head on the pillow, two fingers completely shadowed, the other thrown into a dramatic angle.

He blinked slowly. Oh. The arms around his waist were trembling, everything attached to them, pressed against his back, doing the same. Keith. Keith was trembling. Lance came to, heard the soft whimpers against the nape of his neck.

In lieu of asking, he placed his hands over Keith's, rubbing up his forearms. A sob.

"Keith?"

Keith took a moment to answer, giving a shallow breath, "Nightmare. Just... Just give me a second."

Lance nodded, turning to face him, cupping his cheeks. The tear tracks looked old. How long had he been crying? Lance wiped them away, pushing his bangs up with the same swipe.

His jaw was tense, face scrunched up, like his body was betraying him with it's reaction and he was mad at it. "It's okay," Lance murmured, "breathe with me, baby."

It took a while. Keith sat up, setting his forehead on his knees, hand fumbling before finding Lance's. He squeezed it, hiccuping.

They all got nightmares; this wasn't a new concept. Lance got them, as aforementioned. There wasn't a month that passed without Shiro screaming for Matt Holt from a few hallways away, where they all gathered to calm him down.

Hunk would see his mom and sister taken by the Galra, the Balmera being destroyed with Shay and her people still on it. Pidge admitted to not getting a good night's sleep since her brother and dad were taken. They coped as well as they could, even when two out of the five almost always emerged after a full night with jumbo luggage bags under their eyes.

“I did it this time,” he finally said, eyes fixed on his feet under the blankets, “I shot you.”

“No you didn’t,” Lance cut in, because it needed to be said. He was still in the dream.

Keith’s voice was starting to hitch again, hiding his face in his elbow, “I know. I-I know. But he handed me the gun, and I held it to your forehead, and—“ Lance shimmied closer, resting his cheek on Keith’s shoulder, “and— th-then Hunk. And P—“

“You didn’t do anything to us. The worst you’ve done to me in the last twenty-four hours is make me unable to walk right for a while,” he attempted a smile, smoothing the hair off Keith’s forehead.

Keith snorted, flipping to look at him. A tear was caught in his eyelashes. Lance kissed it, bundling Keith into his chest.

Maybe he shouldn’t have felt as lucky as he did to have Keith crying in his arms. A part of it felt messed up, to have his heart jump when Keith lowered the down, tucking himself smaller. It felt like a privilege to have Keith trust him enough to see him like this.

Hot-headed, cynical Keith.

Soft, caring Keith.

“I love you,” like he was still unsure Lance would respond, muffling it into his skin. 

Lance couldn’t hold him any closer and it still wasn’t enough. He had an iron grip on his waist, and knew if anyone actually tried to do anything to this boy, he was going to kill them. Not in the least drastic, I know. His judgement was on track as hell.

He breathed in the faint smell of sex and shampoo, an entirely new kind of comfort, “I love you too, baby. I love you so damn much.”

 

**▼ ▲ 5 ▲ ▼**

 

"I actually have a boyfriend," Lance beamed, squinting through the crowd to point, "the red one with the tragic... Keith! Baby, hey!"

Keith looked up from his conversation with Allura. He gave a decidedly undiplomatic gesture. Ara nodded, "Ah, chill, bro. What vibes he sending?"

He flapped his hand, "That, uh, means I love you from where we're from. It's fine."

The Hyllen hummed, taking a sip from the ornate flute of drink in her hand. They were a hella fancy species, their entire planet was practically covered in a thin film of silver and gold, which was ironic since they spoke like the guys on Varadera that were always handing out free blunts. Allura said their alliance was a good foot up for the more superficial side of the galaxy. The people could almost be human, if not for the jewels glittering where their eyes should be.

Coran had brought out the most fancy (aka Uncomfortable) of Altean dress. Suits kind of like his in all their shades of colors, laden with important symbols and  _capes_. They had  _capes_. 

"So, ya'll gonna boogie at Reycan?"

Lance picked up a bon bon like pastry from a passing plate, "Sorry, I don't really know what that is."

She grinned wide, "Man, it's  _awesome._ It's a tradition during parties to have a Reycan boogie. All the steadies go out, get their,” she bumped her hip with his, “dance on. The instruments used to jam it out are designed with this psych tech thing.”

“What’s that?”

“I can’t really explain,” she linked their arms, “you’ve gotta see.”

“Then yeah,” he mirrored her smile, “definitely.”

“Aces! Let’s check if we get them to speed this up,” Ara let him go, slipping through the crowd.

An idea popped into Lance’s mind. He watched her go then turned, glancing at Allura, remembering something Keith said. He scanned for Hunk, spotting him with one of the nobles, motioning the way he did when he was talking about something he’s built.

Shoving the pastry in his mouth, Lance went over. He pretended to be in the conversation of the people behind him, muttered in his ear, “Go get Shiro. Meet me on the dance floor in two minutes.”

He stopped, allowing the noble to add on, “Do I want to know?”

“It’s good, I promise,” he slunk away, finding and steering Pidge away from the table of cakes and edible gems. Her cheeks were too full of topazes to speak.

She gave a hard chew and smacked him away, “What—“

“When Hunk has Shiro on the floor, I need you to find a way to shove Allura over near him.”

“Again—“ She nodded, “ _Oh._ The Reycan.”

“Yeah. How’d you—“

“Some of us weren’t distracted with whispering nasty shit in our boyfriend’s—“

“Blah, blah, blah, semantics.”

“Is this what I think it is?”

He ruffled her hair, fixing it immediately after, “Since you have such a big beautiful brain, yes. Assume so.”

“Kay, I’m in.”

She skipped over to Allura, calling her. The princess nodded at whatever she said, inaudible through all the loud music, and let Pidge lead her away.

Keith rose an eyebrow when Lance sidled over and slung an arm around his shoulders, “What are you doing?”

“Getting your brother to stop being a pussy. Come with me?”

Keith wordlessly took his hand. Lance glanced over to the glass-covered section cut out for the band, where Ara was trying to wave him down. She gave a double thumbs up and winked. He did the same back, pulling at Keith to follow him.

“Lance, seriously—“

“Keith, seriously,” the lights changed, dimming to be tinted various jewel-toned colors, which must have been the cue, because a multitude of people stopped talking and went looking for those they wanted to dance with, “dance with me.”

His eyes widened as Lance put a hand on his waist, turning so they were in a loose impersonation of a ballroom dancing position, since it was what everybody else was doing. Out of his peripheral, Pidge tripped, knocking into Allura into Shiro’s chest. Hunk grabbed Pidge under his arm and disappeared.

He motioned with his chin for Keith to look while he said, “I can’t dance, Lance.” Allura was holing Shiro’s hand in both of hers, motioning at the dance floor. Shiro’s face had gone the same shade of red Keith’s did when they first started dating and Lance kissed him in front of everybody.

He nodded. Keith snickered.

“I say you can,” Lance sing-songed.

“There’s, like, no chance,” he responded flatly. Lance laughed.

“I knew you’ve watched High School Musical!”

He rolled his eyes, “I’ve obviously… watched…” he looked up at the band, confused.

The first notes of a familiar song, an instrument he’d always thought was a flute playing alongside a drum. His hip moved on it’s own accord and Lance laughed again, giddily, “You hear it?”

“Yeah,” he said it with a reverence, the first time since the game console had broken that they were listening to music from Earth, “one of my foster dads would play this all the time.”

“Ricky’s a classic,” Lance couldn’t stop smiling, feet sliding right and left to the beat. Around them, everybody was following a different rhythm. Allura and Shiro were dancing to a slower song, the couple next to them straight up break dancing.

Psych tech… _right_. He could already imagine Pidge salivating over this.

“How…?”

“Not sure, some weird tech in the instruments.”

“I mean both of us. The same song.”

Lance was itching to move, pulling at Keith’s hand, “I don’t know _._ C’mon,” he adjusted his hold, “ _dance.”_

Keith put his free hand on his shoulder, “Teach me.”

“Follow my lead.”

He stepped one foot forward, bumping so Keith’s stepped back. Replaced it and did the same with the other. He moved Keith’s waist with his hips, singing along.

When it got slow, he twirled Keith around, happy when he continued the movement in his hips. He held him again, keeping the arm behind his back, stepping in a slow circle.

It didn’t take long for Keith to step up, showing a much better rhythm than Lance thought he would have. At some point, he took over the male parts, dipping Lance down with a hand at the small of his back. Lance’s footwork was still more complicated than his, thank you very much, swirling like it was his sister’s quince all over again.

And just like in the quince, he tripped over himself.

Unlike then, however, someone caught him and he didn’t break his nose. Keith looped an arm around him, keeping him in another dip, his other arm on Lance’s thigh. Lance grinned wide, pointing out that leg.

“You okay?”

“Yeah,” he cupped Keith’s cheek, pecking his lips quick, “just lucky to have you here to catch me.”

Keith straightened them up, still swaying to the ending verse, “You’re a huge dork.”

“You love it.”

He sighed, “Yeah, I do.”

 

 

**▼ ▲ +1 ▲ ▼**

 

The distress signal came a few days later from a very small planet on a remote belt, claiming they were refugees from a destroyed moon a light-year away. There was no sign of Galra ships so they’d only taken Red and Yellow, who had the biggest space for extra people. Lance went with Keith while Pidge and Shiro went with Hunk.

It wasn’t until they landed and were trying to find the source of the comms inside a broken down ship when the mirage flickered that they realized it was a trap.

Pidge flew across the room, hitting the floor like a bag of bricks. She didn’t move. Lance ran over, crouching at her side and taking her wrist, trying to find her pulse. Her fingers were twitching from the current of lightning that had just hit her full in the chest. He whirled on the druid, shooting them into oblivion.

He heard Keith snarl, Hunk shout. He looked up to see Shiro lunge at Haggar, but was stopped with an outstretched hand. She flicked it and he crashed into the wall.

She dodged a blast from Hunk, attempting another strike of electricity, but hitting her own druid when it bounced off his shield. Shiro shot to his feet at full-tilt, swiping his prosthetic  through the same druid, turning her to dust.

Pidge flopped a hand on his shoulder, slurring, “I’m fine. I’m fine.”

“No you’re not,” he kept himself aware of where the remaining two druids were, engaged with Hunk and Keith.

“At least go and _help,_ you dipshit.”

His lip twitched and he nodded, shoving her bayard in her hand, “Stay awake. If any of those sons of bitches come near you give ‘em hell.”

“I’m giving _you_ hell if you don’t leave me alone right now. Go.”

He listened to her, coming up on the Haggar’s blind side, shooting at her shoulder. She tensed and disappeared, then a hand clamped around his arm. He rammed his foot back, hoping to hit whatever the hell it was she had down there.

Hunk finally smashed his druid into the wall, yelling at Keith to duck while he blasted the other one.

Haggar grabbed his leg, sending a bolt of electricity through it. He fell to his knees, choking back a scream.

Shiro’s hand flickered, which only happened when he got angry. Aw. He cared.

“Lance,” Hunk whispered, finally noticing him as Keith rammed his sword through the last druid. Keith’s head snapped up, eyes flashing between him and Haggar. And if Shiro looked mad, Keith was downright _pissed_. No, not even. If looks could kill, Haggar would be little more than a singed robe on the floor.

Pidge had made her way to the semicircle, leaning bodily against the wall, “Let go of him.”

“Yes, of course,” she tapped all five pointy fingers on his head, digging into his hair, and Lance prayed Keith didn’t do some stupid shit right now, “and lose my leverage? I am not as rash as Emperor Zarkon was, paladins. I am not prepared to die just yet.”

“Then you should take your hands off my boyfriend,” Keith growled. The hand on his sword was visibly shaking.

Her eyes slid lazily over him, a disturbing smile obscuring the scars down her cheeks, “Ah. The red paladin. I knew your mother.”

Which was basically the equivalent of dropping an atomic bomb in the room. Lance almost felt his ears pop, the air changed so fast.

“You have that annoying quality of hers… too much fire. It was much more fun to snuff it out than to—“

She shoved Lance away as Keith roared and drove forward. Lance stumbled to his feet, ready to celebrate and kiss Keith with all he—

The same hand that had clawed through his hair locked down on Keith’s jaw, shoving his face up and rendering his attack useless. His sword clattered to the ground. Keith didn’t look like he registered it, still fuming, glaring down at her.

A 1,000 degree knife vs. his heart. Who wins? Absolutely fucking no one, because Lance already felt the heat bleeding into the rest of him, red clouding his vision.

“Easy,” she murmured, “you truly are exactly like her.”

“Screw y—“ he went eerily still. His hands on her wrist slid to his sides. Like he’d completely shut down.

Or…

Shiro loosely grabbed Lance’s forearm, like he was making sure this was still happening. Pidge’s eyes widened, panicked, “Keith?”

Haggar let go of him, but his head stayed cracked up. His eyes rolled back in his head, feet stumbling.

Hunk put a hand out, touching Keith’s shoulder tentatively. Keith went ramrod straight (not the time to make a joke about that, right?). He retreated, Pidge putting an arm out for him to step back.

Lance tore his gaze away, fixing on Haggar. Sensing it or some creepy witch shit like that, she smirked, head falling in his direction. He froze.

She beckoned Keith forward, movements awkward. His body slowly relaxed, eyes re—

No.

Glowing. Twin vats of acid.

_No._

“Keith,” Lance heard himself say, “baby, talk to me.” Haggar floated forward, disappearing as she passed through Keith.

He jerked, a smile like cough medicine plastering over his face,

“Lance… oh, he _likes_ you.”

Everything in his body dropped to his feet. Lance was hollowed out, swaying dangerously. Her raspy voice layered under Keith’s, shoving another ice pick in his ribcage. It curdled all the contents of his stomach.

“Get the fuck out of my brother,” Shiro said, very forcefully keeping himself level. Which wasn’t really working because his fist was flashing like Mike was trying to Morse code, _OH. SHIT._

“Give me a moment, Champion,” she flexed Keith’s fingers, picking up his sword, “I’m trying to find just the right piece of code… Ah, here’s one.”

Hunk gasped like he’d been shot, going blank for a couple of seconds where Lance was striding to check on him. He’d gone pale. “Buddy, hey, you—

Whatever Haggar said was muffled as Lance’s head was dunked underwater.

_Lance was suffocating, digging his heels into the small of Keith’s back to keep him from moving. He’d never felt this full, full of thoughts, full of love, of Keith, Keith, Keith._

_He pulled at his hair. Pressed their foreheads harder together. “You okay?”_

_“’M fine,” he breathed, keeping his eyes open to meet Keith’s dreamy expression, “just need a second.” He attempted to move up a bit, but that slight friction forced a moan out of his throat. Keith slipped down, burying his nose in his shoulder. This position was supposed to be harder, but Lance wanted to look at him. It was worth being able to kiss his temple._

_Keith sounded wrecked, hold ironing on his waist, “I’m terrified of how good you feel. I’m terrified of how much I love you.”_

_His already erratic heartbeat completely flat lined, the ache building at the base of his spine going torturous. He pulled Keith up, kissing him hard. Their noses bumped and Keith closed his eyes._

_Closer. Lance wanted him as fucking close as he could get him. “Move. Move, baby.”_

_Keith nodded, tentatively moving his hips up, then dropping almost unintentionally fast. Lance sobbed._

_Everything was new. Everything was new and awkward and sweaty and Lance wouldn’t have it any other way because it was Keith. Keith was stuttering loving nonsense against his neck, Keith was sliding a shaky hand over him, throwing Lance’s head back into the pillow. His thighs squeezed high, pushing Keith deeper, bucking up to meet him._

“Lance,” _they’d built up a rhythm at some point, now abandoned. His chest was a chaos of, God, how much he loved him, and they were kissing, and Lance couldn’t stop murmuring his name, “I-I love you—_ Dios _—Te amo, Keith, I love you_

“Keith.”

But it wasn’t him. Haggar used his smile, chuckling darkly. Lance had to swallow to get rid of the dryness in his mouth. She’d seen that. She’d watched it, felt it, chose it to be— _used_ it.

His anger flared, “What the fuck are you doing? Get _out—“_

“Just reminding you of how,” she fluttered his eyelashes, “close you all are. His being part Galra makes it easier for me to do this.” Haggar existed in the room again, hovering inches away from Keith, whispering something to him. The same vacuum flood the room with a new kind of air.

Shiro was just snapping out of whatever memory Haggar had plunged him in, absolutely livid—

Keith swung his sword at his brother. Shiro jumped away, crashing into Pidge. She held onto his arm, using all her strength to lead him away. Keith cracked his neck, an extremely familiar, gesture, bouncing on the balls of his feet.

His face was completely expressionless. Like a corpse.

Lance shoved Hunk out of the way, taking the roundhouse kick to his hip. He spun with it’s momentum, ignoring the pain to summon his bayard up and block a jab with the sword.

“Keith,” he brought the gun down, knocking the sword with it, “Keith, snap out of it.”

He rose an unimpressed eyebrow, twirling his sword and hooking Lance in the jaw. His visor covered the top half of his face, which saved it from coming head on. His head cracked right. Hunk ran forward, grabbing Keith’s arms down, “Dude, it’s us. You have to—“

He kicked Hunk’s knee in, dropping in a crouch to he would let go and tackled his shins. Hunk went down, crying out. Keith sat on his torso, pulling back his arm to clock him out.

Pidge’s bayard wrapped around his elbow, sputtering green shocks down his shoulders. It was still Keith’s yelp, his growl, wrapping the line around one more time to yank Pidge forward. She tripped, falling flat and he drove his fist into her stomach on the way down. He unwrapped it from his arm and around her neck.

Hunk shoved him off with the distraction, crawling to support himself on the wall to stand up. Lance helped him, dropping his bayard in the effort to hold Keith away from Pidge.

“Stop, Keith _stop—“_

“I’m Galra, Lance,” he laughed, “why should I?” He wrapped a hand around his fist and elbowed up Lance’s chest plate. Lance wheezed, but didn’t let go, not until Keith sprinted backwards, colliding him against Hunk.

He was free for a second, turning to face them. Shiro picked him up from behind, throwing him down. Keith grunted, poised on one foot, kicking the other one out on Shiro’s thigh.

Lance shook himself out, grabbing for Pidge and picking her up, handing her to Hunk, “Take her to one of the lions. Make sure she’s breathing, she might go into shock.”

Hunk nodded, but the doors slammed shut, Haggar tsking, “Ah, no. No one leaves. That just seems unfair.”

Keith had flipped up, sitting on Shiro’s shoulders and choking his ankles into his airway. He pulled at his hair, Shiro clawing at his shins. Lance shoved his hands into the back of Keith’s plate, jumping and pulling him down with him.

They rolled out, Lance sitting up and straddling Keith’s waist, shouting, “Get Haggar!”

Shiro and Hunk nodded, leaving Pidge slumped at the entrance and going for the witch. Keith lunged up but Lance grabbed his wrists and pinned them on either side of his head. He stayed elevated to not give Keith the chance to buck him off.

“Keith, you have to be strong. You have to fight her—“

“Why?” He smirked, “You don’t like this? I thought you loved me.”

He sucked in a breath, “I do. I love you, but this isn’t you, Keith. She’s in your head.”

“What if she’s just showing you who I am?” He brought his face up, so they were almost nose to nose, and Lance stayed still, “What if I don’t love you?”

Lance knew it wasn’t him but it still hurt more than the bruise forming on his face, “Keith, _please_. Please, fight—“

Keith kissed him, kicking his leg out to take Lance’s off and planting it on his hip, shoving. Lance skid, Keith almost impossibly on his feet, kicking the side of his head. His vision whited out, throwing his balance off. He tried getting up on his arm and Keith stepped on his shoulder, crushing him down.

His arm went numb for long enough to let Keith scoop his sword back up. He fisted his hand into the neck of Lance’s suit, shoving him up to sit against the wall. Lance tried kneeing up, Keith hitting it with the butt of his sword and pinning both down. Lance cursed.

“I don’t mention that in my nightmares,” he balanced his sword carefully on his fingers, the blade glowing and shrinking, “you’re telling me you love me. Even before you said it to me. Calling me baby, sweetheart, _mi amor,”_ he said it like a curse, tracing Lance’s cheekbone with the tip of his knife, “wonder if you’ll do it now.”

He reached up to take the knife away. Keith struck his wrist, twisting it hard. Lance heard the crack through the ringing in his head. He banged his head against the wall, hand falling limp in his lap. Shiro shouted something, there was a crash.

Keith swiped the blade shallow along his jaw. It stung, dribbling warm blood. He forced himself to meet his eyes, thought they weren’t really his, “Keith. Stop.”

“I love you,” he whispered, “I really, really do.” He placed the blade a little bit to the right of Lance’s stomach.

Lance didn’t dare start crying, “Please. Fight her. I know you’re in there, Keith. I know—“

The glow dwindled for less time than Lance could see, horrified, disgusted. At himself. His hand was fighting, one of his eyes openly leaking tears, “L-Lance—I can’t—“

Keith drove the knife into his flesh. It went up to the hilt, and he sobbed, twisting it. Lance choked, feeling something hot come up his airway, gulping it back. He pulled it out. Blood freely soaked into his suit.

Just like that, back in, higher, closer to the hundred-mile pulse in his chest. The pain came in waves. He was able to grab Keith’s bicep this time, pushing at it weakly.

Keith repeated his motion, now smashing Lance’s skull into the wall by his hair. Yup, definitely blacking out now. Almost certain that’s happening.

Right on time, a screech resounded off the walls, sounding like the awful light that flashed everything. He couldn’t stop the blood this time, spilling down the corners of his mouth.

Something metal fell near him. Something touched his face something was yelling his name somethi

 

“…no, no don’t come _near me—“_

“It’s not your fault—“

“I’m awake. I’ll go with you in Red—“

“ _No.”_

“Shiro has to stay with Lance—“

“All of you can fit in Yellow. I’ll go back alone.”

“Keith—“

“ _I just fucking killed him.”_

“No you didn’t, but if we don’t get back to the castle, he might as well be, idiot. This isn’t some goddamn debate. Let’s go.”

Pain exploded behind his eyelids.

 

Padding over the blood, dry, the knife was out.

“…horrible on him. He already has nightmares, and after the Galra thing…”

“…try our best. He was possessed.”

“Don’t ask too much, Hunk. Just try to forget.”

“Believe me, I’m not mentioning this any…”

 

“…pod, now. What happened?”

“It was a trap, Haggar and her druids… they won’t be coming back anytime soon.”

“Anybody else?”

“Pidge might still be—“

“I’m _fine—“_

“Pidge, if you don’t get in there…”

 

_“I’m sorry… I’m so fucking sorry…”_

He tripped over the couch, falling flat on the cushions. Jesus, it was cold. Who turned the thermostat… _oh_. Right.

The suit shifted uncomfortably over him, like snakeskin. Lance stood, rubbing at his arms and looking around. It looked like it was night, none of the lights were turned on. What was…

_“L-Lance. I can’t—“_

His hand drifted over his side, feeling the twin scars on his abdomen. Keith stabbed him.

No, _Haggar_ had.

There was a definite distinction there. Lance dropped it and shucked off the suit, throwing it in the compartment behind the pod. He put on the change of clothes someone left there, a shirt with constellations all over the front and red flannel pants. Both were Keith’s, so whoever put them in had probably grabbed the first thing they’d seen. Lance couldn’t help the slight smile as he put them on.

Should he just go into his room? Was his fixed yet? Actually… He squinted at the data board. He’d been in there five days. _Yikes._

Keith was probably… God. He walked out, down the hallway to Keith’s room.

He’d visit Blue tomorrow, definitely. She’d probably gone ballistic. He could feel the ever present pull toward her and tried to send something down it, a ‘ _Not dead’_ or something.

Or maybe…

No.

Alright, c’mon. Don’t pussyfoot now.

He placed his hand on the scanner, willing the swish of the doors to be quieter. It didn’t make a difference.

Keith was little more than a ball on the bed, half covered by the blankets. His hair was a puddle of ink around his head, making his pale face that much more stark.

Oh, baby…

He padded to the side of the bed, putting one leg folded under him and leaving the other planted on the floor. Keith wasn’t quite shaking, but his shoulders were thrumming, which wasn’t much better.

Lance carded a gentle hand through his hair, lowering his face down to kiss his cheek. He didn’t want to wake him up, but he’d probably freak out if Lance was just _there_ in the morning.

“Keith… baby, wake up.”

Keith made a noise, head falling in the direction of Lance’s hand. _Tiny Galra boyfriend…_

He lied down, hugging around Keith’s waist. Kissed behind his ear. He felt Keith go to link their hands together, subconsciously. Then go completely rigid.

Lance let him go, sitting up so he could twist to look. His heart felt sucker punched. The dark smudges under Keith’s eyes were brutal.

“Lance?”

His voice was softer than he anticipated, “Yeah.”

Keith’s eyes were still clouded in sleep, and Lance just noticed the red rimming them.

“Lance,” he said it louder, flattening himself against the wall, “you shouldn’t—why—“

“Could we… could we save the whole argument about that for tomorrow? Or just,” he tapped his thigh, “not?”

“I almost killed you.”

“No you didn’t.”

Keith sat, knees tucked to his chest, “Yes, I did. Don’t start with all that Haggar bullshit, I had the knife in my hand, and—and I felt it—“

Lance scooted forward, hooking his index fingers under all of Keith’s, “She made you do it. It was your body, but it wasn’t you. You didn’t mean for any of that to happen. Or is my luck just that bad?”

He looked like he wanted to pull away but reveled in the touch, closing his eyes tight, “I had to wash your blood off my hands. How can you be so—“

“I love you.” His eyes opened, all shiny and soft, “A little bit of stabbing isn’t gonna change that.”

“It’s usually a deal breaker,” Keith mumbled, legs crumbling down. It gave Lance the space to come forward and hug him, pull him back down on the bed.

“I’m just a bit crazy in love with you. I’m giving you this one so when I shoot you next week—“

_“Lance—“_

He tucked himself under Keith’s chin, kissing his chest, “Okay. Maybe that was in bad taste.”

“Stop. Just. You’re not dead,” he shuddered out a breath, heart pounding in Lance’s ear, “that’s what… I love you.”

“Same,” he reached up and fit their mouths together, barely a task now. Keith cradled his face, pressing him closer. Always closer.

“So much same.”

**Author's Note:**

>  **Extras:** Keith and Lance heard the same song in 5 because Reycan is kind of a... soulmate deal, I guess? If you and the person you are dancing with are hearing the same thing it kind of means youre meant to be. (ye, allura and shiro heard the same song ;;))
> 
> Coran and Hunk proceeded to print and blow up the picture taken during the Takedown. It's been hung in the control room, where they all have to look at it everyday.
> 
> Lance eventually moves his ass and he and Keith move into one of the bigger empty rooms. It's kind of bare at first but it fills up quick w all their junk.
> 
> Allura and Shiro eventually do end up getting together, all thanks to the fact that she cant get over how ugly Shiro was able to make his face in the picture. She talked about it so much that, eventualky, they had to square up and admit shit. 
> 
> Am I just layin down headcanons? Probably lmao. Wow it's all fluff & games until- too soon? I'm just the worst. I love fluff but suffering? pretty cool too. Comments and Kudos feed my ego!!! thank ya'll <3
> 
> @ me!! talk to me about trash!!!:
> 
> twitter: [@hivekyu](https://twitter.com/hivekyu)  
> tumblr: [@paladon-t](http://paladon-t.tumblr.com/)


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